Life is like a Game of Quidditch
by Zeft
Summary: Oliver Wood's first year at Hogwarts. A chance to get inside his mind and see what really goes on in there. See how he makes/loses friends, his marks in school and how he coped a year without being on the Quidditch team.
1. Default Chapter

Life is like a game of Quidditch, Part 1 Life is like a game of Quidditch.  
  
Part 1. Now that we're here...  
  
Author: Zeft  
  
Author Email: zeft_ml@hotmail.com  
  
Category: Humor  
  
Keywords: Oliver, Percy, Sorting Hat  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Summary: In which Oliver's head is open to all, not just the sorting hat.  
  
Disclaimer:This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.   
  
A/N: The narrative might sound a bit weird, so just to clarify, it is in first person, Oliver's POV, unless stated otherwise. Sometimes it seems like it's in third person, but it ain't really. Work with me here.   
  
PS. Keep an open mind and nothing will surprise you.  
  
***  
  
Under-age wizards. Witches. Hundreds of them. All sitting in neat rows at each table, waiting for the results.   
  
Caught sight of Percy, a few places in front of me. He's looking greenish. Can't say I blame him. The sight of a full blown castle hall full of people who could curse you in a second is enough to make anyone head for the hills. Shot him a reassuring smile. Don't think he saw me though, cos' he's looking worse. Either that, or my reassuring smile looked more like a evil grin.  
  
Percy isn't the only one looking ready to spew any minute. Half the first-years look like they've swallowed a tub of cod liver oil. Can't see what the problem is though. There's only a stool in the middle of the hall, with a hat on top. All we have to do is sit on the stool and put the hat on. A much, much easier thing to do than some of the rumours that went round the train. Somebody said we had to wrestle a troll, somebody else said we'd have to perform in front of everybody, even Percy said it was going to be hard and difficult, and he's usually not wrong. How hard can putting the hat on be? Unless the hat is gonna sing loud and off tune in your ear?   
  
Professor McGonagall is up to the 'p's. Walter Perkins is sorted into Ravenclaw.  
  
Taking a good look at him. He doesn't seem like the Ravenclaw type at all. Unless my hearing needs to be checked, the hat did sing that Ravenclaw should be smart people. Perhaps I heard wrong, (It was fairly high-pitched and squeaky) for here is a boy with what looks to be all body and no brain. Maybe their captain struck a deal with the hat. They'd take one no brain person because they're short of a few good beaters?  
  
Shuffling up a few paces. Oh Merlin, I don't feel so well now. McGonagall is up to the 't's. Somebody's walking up to the Gryffindor table. From the back, it looks like the girl that was standing in front of Percy. So he's probably next. He stands there, waiting for McGonagall to call out his name. She does, and he walks forward.  
  
Go on Percy, you can do it. Get into Gryffindor, I mean. Spent the whole train journey telling me what a great house Gryffindor is and how his family would be disappointed if he isn't in it, blah blah blah. What a load of bore. Can just imagine what he'd start saying if he isn't in by now.   
  
A load of clapping enrupts from somewhere. Craning my neck to see. Ah, the Gryffindor table. Percy's gotten in, it's all good, so far.  
  
'Wood, Oliver!' What?! Already? Drat. I turn to face McGonagall. She nods. Guess it's really me then.   
  
Walking up to the stool. Slow and easy does it, Oliver, you don't wanna trip and make a fool of yourself. On second thought, you look like a tortoise. Go faster.  
  
Hurrying up to the stool. Sit down, and pick up the hat. The felt feels worn and patched between my fingers. Like the kind of material on your grandfather's robes. Only dirtier. Doesn't look very threatening.   
  
Slipping the hat over my ears. So far, nothing yet, except for the intoxicating smell of the previous person's shampoo.   
  
'Hello Oliver.' A voice in my ear. Merlin! The hat can speak.  
  
'Yes. What do you want?'   
  
'That wasn't terribly polite of you,' the hat chides. Not polite? I'm not the one that whispers into people's ears whenever I like.  
  
'You surprised me.'  
  
'Ah yes. That happens sometimes. Let's get straight to the point. You ought to be in Gryffindor, my boy.' Really? How come?  
  
'Why?'  
  
'You're loud, bold and upfront.' He? She? It answers.  
  
'How do you know that?' the hat seems to sigh.   
  
'Remember my song specifically stated I could read minds.' Well I'll be. The hat's a mind reader. Must make the job easier, seeing as no one can possibly lie.  
  
'I wasn't listening.'   
  
For some reason this seems to tick the hat off. It makes a 'hmph' sound.  
  
'My opinions changed...oh never mind, a hat can only take so much psychoanalysing, Gryffindor it is,' bellowing the last part.  
  
Oh Merlin, my poor ears are taking quite a beating. I'm sure to go deaf before the evening finishes.   
  
I walk towards the Gryffindor table. Percy claps like a madman. No need, no need. He pulls a chair out for me to sit down.  
  
'Well done! Now we're in the same house!' He beams. Same house? Oh yes, I'm positively thrilled.  
  
'Yeah. Shouldn't there be some food? Seeing as it's dinner and all.'  
  
'There's still some more students left.' He indicates the 3 or so first years still standing in the middle of the hall. Two girls and a weedy looking guy.  
  
You've got to feel sorry for them. The remaining students, I mean. Everyone's already been sorted, no worries, and they're still standing there. All eyes on them. Make one wrong move and they'll be vanquished. Okay, maybe not quite.  
  
The last person, 'Young, Paul' gets to be a Hufflepuff. I don't envy him at all. Hufflepuff don't look too bright. I only know this because Percy was reciting the history of the school to me on the train. (Which would have actually been alright, if  
he didn't try and do it in Old English.)  
  
The sorting is finished as McGonagall drags the stool away. Thank Merlin. For a moment I thought we're gonna starve. Wait a moment, what's this?  
  
The headmaster stands up and clears his throat. Long silvery hair, sharp blue eyes and wrinkly skin. I hope he doesn't croak when he talks. I don't know how old he is, but my great-grandfather's 90 and he sounds like a chainsaw when he opens his mouth.  
  
'A big welcome back to you all,' the headmaster says, opening his arms out wide as if to embrace us, 'I trust the train journey was comfortable-' a slight murmurring goes round the hall. Comfortable yes, but also boring. You would think that an invisible train speeding off to a magical castle would hold some excitement, but no...even my fizzing whizbees let me down, refusing to lift me more than 10cm off the ground, and I ate 15 of them in a row.   
  
'-and that you are all refreshed, ready to start the school term, come morning.' A collective groan all around. Dumbledore chuckles in amusement, his eyes twinkling at everyone else's misery. The groaning dies down, and he continues, 'but I'm sure you'd rather go to bed on a full stomach...' he trails off, waves his wand around for a bit while muttering some words under his breath and poof!  
  
Alot of food appears suddenly. Oh my. Everybody else acts like it's totally normal, and they start eating, but I'm not the only one with my mouth hanging half open. Most of the first-years were bewitched, and even Percy managed to look surprised before regaining his composure.   
  
Helping myself to the food. Mash potatoes to the right, roast beef to the left, chicken and gravy back behind and vegetable soup down the end. There's so much of it, I don't think anyone cares about how much we take. The plates just keep refilling anyway. I think I'll enjoy meal-times here.  
  
Everyone eats in silence. Gryffindors seems to mind their manners, no one's talking with their mouth full. Actually, no one is talking. It's almost eerie.  
  
Someone starts up a conversation. Bravo!. I can't hear what they're talking about, but it sounds interesting.   
  
'So, is anyone excited?' (yeah) '-nervous?' (nah) 'looking forward to Quidditch?' (yes!)  
  
'I'm looking forward to Quidditch.'  
  
The blonde boy at the end of the row raises an eyebrow. No idea who he is. Don't like the way he looks at me. All self-assured. Like he's the inventor of Quidditch, or something.   
  
He pushes his plate away. Rests both elbows on the table and leans into the conversation.   
  
'Really?' he smirks at me. I don't like that smirk. He's almost leering.  
  
'Yes, why?'  
  
His grins gets even wider, so wide that I can count the number of teeth he has. Ugly. Seems to think Quidditch is a joke.  
  
'You like it a whole lot?' Well duh.  
  
'Yes.'   
  
'Good.' He runs his hand through his hair in a confident manner. Holds the same hand out to me. (oh ick.) 'I'm the Gryffindor Quidditch captain.' You!? You've got to be joking!  
  
'Oh.'   
  
He frowns.  
  
'You seem to be disappointed,' (that's because I am) '-I assure you, we are a very good team-'  
  
'-we aren't that good a team,' another boy buts in. The captain glares at him. He stares back defiantly.  
  
'As I was saying, we come second every year.' Only second? Why not first?  
  
'Why don't you come first?' Both boys shift uncomfortably. They trip over each other's sentences.  
  
'Well Slytherin are quite good-'  
  
'-our best player was out for a couple of matches-'  
  
'-we couldn't book any training sessions-'  
  
'-the other teams all had superior brooms-' etc, etc, etc. Amusing to see them suddenly awkward after their confident start. The taller one seems to recover.  
  
'Anyway, I'm Matthew, and this is my brother Andrew.' Looking at the two of them. They're brothers? It's impossible to tell. The taller one, (Matthew, I think) is blonde and lanky, while Andrew is short and stumpy. They have the same grin though, I guess. They seem more like boss and second-in-command to me.  
  
'We should go to bed.' Matthew says abruptly. Andrew raises his eyebrows in question. Matthew nods, and suddenly, Andrew complies. They both get up and leave. Perhaps I wasn't wrong about the boss and servant thing.   
  
A few people watch them leave. Mostly girls. Gryffindor doesn't seem to be a very sociable place. Pushing my plate away. I've had enough for tonight. Maybe I should go to bed like Matthew suggested.   
  
Walking out the great hall, and into the entrance hall. Looking around. Which staircase? Oh Oliver! You fool, you don't have the slightest inkling where the dorms might be, do you? Where is Percy when you need him? Stupid, stupid, stupid.  
  
Hurrying back into the great hall. Hope nobody notices. Argh! What's this? Seems like I've been hit with a sledge hammer. Staggering, trying to keep on my feet. Oh no, not a sledge hammer, just a hall full of people. What rotten luck. I decide to go in, everyone decides to come out.   
  
Trying to push my way through the crowd. I've got to get to the edge, or the lord knows where I'll end up. They're all going in different directions, it'll be like being drawn apart by wild horses.  
  
Who should I follow? Not the ones going into the dungeon, that's for sure. I might not be the world's most attentive student, but even I was awake for the part when Percy was telling us the Slytherins lived in the dungeons. The ones going to the right? Left? Up?   
  
Oof! Someone is pushed into my back. A very bony someone. Trying to see who it is, but the crowd is so thick I can't turn my head. Ow! His, no...her head bangs into mine.   
  
'Sorry,' the girl gives a weak smile. Points for effort. You've got to be a champion to be able to smile in the midst of getting crushed. From what I can see, (which isn't a whole lot) she looks intelligent. I'll ask her.  
  
'You know where the Gryffindors should go?' Her face draws a blank, and she shrugs as much as she possibly can.   
  
'I know the Ravenclaws go to the right,' she points. Thanks, but I'm not a Ravenclaw. Which leaves either to the left or up. Think, Oliver. If you were trapped on a deserted island...no wait, what a stupid question. Deserted islands don't have crowds. Up or left? Left or up?   
  
The crowd doesn't leave me a choice as it surges forward. I manage to grab hold of a stair rail. I pull myself out of the crowd carefully, as not to break any bones. Golly, that was difficult. People could have gotten knocked out in that crowd.   
  
'The dorm rooms are up this way.' Who said that? Looking around. No one in the crowd, that's for sure. Somebody's behind me. I can hear them. Turning around, and...  
  
Oh great. It's the Blonde Brothers. Matthew and Andrew. What are they doing here?  
  
'What are you doing here?' They grin, and flash their teeth at the same time. Yuck.  
  
'We're just here to give friendly advice to any first-years,' Andrew says, looking smug. 'Don't think we mentioned this at dinner, but me and Matt are both prefects. That means you listen and obey us.'  
  
Listen and obey? You guys? Percy was right, prefect standards really have dropped since the 17th century.   
  
'Yeah okay, whatever. What's the common room password?'   
  
Matthew frowns. Now what? It was an innocent enough question. Don't tell me I have to say please?  
  
'I don't think he believes we could be prefects, Andrew.' (too right I don't).  
  
'Look, can you please (I said it) tell me the password? I want to go to bed.'  
  
Andrew snaps to attention. 'The password's Chimaera,' he relunctantly tells me. Chimaera, is it? Good, I can go now.  
  
'We'll see you upstairs!' Andrew yodels to my back. Merlin, those two are strange. I'd like to see what they'd be like without each other. Probably walking around in circles, I bet. Percy is more useful than those two are, put together.  
  
Throught several corridors and up another set of stairs. Merlin, this castle is big! And all these staircases! Now I know why the staff dare feed us so much. We'd work off all the fat just getting to bed. Where am I again? In front of a huge portrait.  
  
'Password?' Woah, even the portraits talk in this place. If she's asking for a password then this must be the entrance then.  
  
'Chimaera.' The portrait swings open. To reveal a pretty big tunnel. Not that big, though. Must take a long time for everyone to get in and out.   
  
Through the hole, and into a bright orange room. Bright orange?! No wait, that's just the glow from the fires. This must be the common room. Empty, no one's in sight. They must have gone to bed.  
  
'I was wondering when you'd come.' Who said that? Lord, this castle is full of surprises. Look around. Is that red hair, or another orange glow from the fire? A movement. Percy?  
  
'Perce?' A muffled sound.  
  
'Yes. I was waiting for you.' A sniff of disdain.  
  
'Why?' Percy sighs.   
  
'I've been up to the common room already. Our room mates weren't terribly polite or eager for classes. I would have done a little study, but they were too loud for me to remember anything. So I came down here.'  
  
'Nice of you. Where's our beds?' Percy sprints towards the stairs, full of energy. I have to run to catch up.   
  
Up we go, I see long flights of stairs in front. I can't even see where they stop. With my luck today, the dorms would be at the top.  
  
I seems I was wrong. Not the top. Second from the top. Percy yanks the door open with a flourish. Three heads turn in our direction, probably wondering what the big noise was.  
  
The one closest to us raises an eyebrow. He points to the empty bed.   
  
'That one's yours,' he says. Noisy room mates, huh? They don't seem that talkative to me. Didn't even say hello. Percy yanks my arm forward.  
  
'This is Oliver Wood, everybody,' he says. They murmur hello.  
  
'Hello. I'm Seth. I'll be having the bed over there,' he points to it, 'so don't sit on it.' He starts to shuffle something in his hands.  
  
'We're having a game of exploding snap. Wanna play? Though I have to warn you, it will hurt if you lose,' he grins, his light blue eyes sparkling mischieviously.  
  
'Nah, I'm fine.' Seth shrugs, and turns back to the game. He doesn't seem too friendly. Or too keen.   
  
Plonking down on my bed. Nice and soft. Perfect. Each four-poster bed has scarlet curtains hanging around. Across the room, Percy packs his stuff away carefully. Possibly colour-coding his jumpers, who knows? Seth and the other two boys are playing exploding snap are one of their beds.  
  
I get up and draw the curtains closed. The sound of cards exploding is still audible, but less so. The castle's finally at rest. Through the window, a full moon beams down upon the lawn. Not a sound as everyone drifts off into dreamland...  
  
Boom!  
  
Wide awake again. Are they still playing exploding snap? Peek through the curtains. Drat, they are.   
  
Boom!  
  
Trying to ignore the sounds. How does Percy sleep through this?   
  
Boom!  
  
Can't get to sleep...  
  
Bang!  
  
Somehow that didn't sound right. Get up and open the curtains a smidgen. They're all asleep. So where did that noise come from then? Ah, nevermind, I'll find out in the morning. Sleep is good.  
  
***  
La fin.  
  
A/N: Special thanks to Gem, WinterStorms and Elerrina. Reviews are greatly appreciated.  
  
***  
  
Chapter is finished. 


	2. What shall we do?

Life is like a game of Quidditch.

Part 2. What shall we do?

Disclaimer: All recognizable Harry Potter characters belong to JK Rowling, various publishers and Warner Bros Inc. I am not doing this for profit and have not broken any infringement policies.

***

__

A blast of cold air rushes by. Looking around, can't see a thing. It's all dark, but what was that? Just around the corner, a speck of gold, perhaps bigger. The speck gets closer, closer, and then…

Nothing. Nothing at all. Where'd the speck go? It was so shiny, so nice. The broomstick turns by itself. Wonder where it's leading me. A wall in front. A dark brown wall. Getting dangerously close. I think I'm going to crash. Ah, no…! 

Open my eyes. Wow, I'm not dead. The broomstick turns right around again. The wall is gone. In its place, a red book. The book flies into my hands. Opening the cover. 'Helpful in every respect,' the front page says. Good. Helpful things are good. Flick through to the middle, and then…

Hey! The book's ripped from my hands. A howl. Now I see. Some wolf has got it. My hand reaches out. The wolf bounds away, the red book in its mouth. Stupid thing won't give it back. Grr.

My broomstick gives chase. After the wolf, through a whole bunch of corridors. It's all dark, which means the wolf has the advantage. Until…

Argh! Bright light. Bright, bright light. Rubbing my eyes. Must it be daylight already? Feels like I had just gotten into bed. Sitting up, and the room comes slowly into focus. Deserted, I see. Is it really that late?

Rolling myself over to the edge of the bed. A quick look at my watch. It's 8 o'clock. No wonder everyone's gone down already. I better hurry. 

Pajamas off. Robes on. One foot in, other foot in. Lacing up boots. I think I'm done. Walking over to the door. Merlin, I'm hungry. But what's this? There's a note lying on Seth's bed. Walking over to pick it up. A piece of parchment, neatly folded in thirds. A letter he forgot to owl? Turning it over. 

Can't be a letter, seeing as it's addressed to me. 'Hey Wood,' it says. Guess I can open it then.

_Wood,_

It wasn't my idea to leave a note, but I was overruled by Percy. Anyway, we all woke up early but didn't want to wake you rightaway, cos you looked like you needed the sleep. We also didn't want you to miss class, so we decided to open your curtains. As soon as the sunlight hits you in the face, you'd be awake. If your sight's gone fuzzy, I'd just like to say it wasn't my idea.

Cheers, Seth.

So they pulled my curtains open? How come I didn't notice? Sneaky people. I let the note fall back onto Seth's bed. He can get rid of it himself. Smug git. 

Out through the door and down the stairs. Funny I never noticed yesterday, but the stairs definitely creak. Into the common room. The fire's all burnt down, leaving only a few dying embers. Gives the room a nice feeling. 

Into the corridors. All walls made of stone. The torchlights have all gone out, letting the sun warm the castle. Down the main stairs. I hope the Great Hall is this way. It was dark last night and I couldn't tell which way I was going, so retracing my steps is out of the question. 

Big, big room. Huge oak doors on one side, big windows all around, looks familiar. The entrance hall, maybe? Off to one side, wooden doors lead to another room. Yes, I think it might be the Great Hall. 

Quietly now. Push the door open a bit, sneak a peek, and yes! Definitely the great hall. Everyone must be here. Looks like there's a lot more people that yesterday. Slipping through. A gentle push, and the door closes without a sound. Now, where are the Gryffindors? Looking through the sea of people. Can't see anything useful. It's all a blanket of heads. Black, blonde, red, and _greyish-brown? _Since when do people have grey hair? On closer inspection, I see, blue eyes? It's impossible to tell. Could be…Seth?

Walking closer, I see Seth, (or whoever he is) talking to a red-head. Percy, no doubt. 

'Ah…Oliver,' Percy smiles, catching sight of me, 'good morning.'

'Morning to you too'

'We er…saved you a seat.' Seth gestures to the one at the end of the row. A smile on his face that doesn't seem to reach his eyes. 

'Thanks.' I sit down. Grab the toast and start munching. 

'Here's your timetable,' Seth says, pushing a slip of paper my way, 'I don't see the point though, seeing as we all have the same one.' 

'Hm…' Reading the slip. 'We have potions first.'

Seth nods. 'Bummer, huh?' 

'I really wanted to have Flying lessons.' 

Seth looks surprised. 'I didn't think you'd need lessons. From what Percy's told me, (_Percy told you?!)_ you're pretty good.' Just great. First day of Hogwarts and everybody knows everything about me. Seth looks at me, puzzled. 

'Something wrong?' 

'No, everything's fine. I just don't like potions, that's all.'

'Who does?' A fake laugh. 'Hours in a dungeon, waiting for soup to turn the right colour? Not for me. I prefer transfiguration. A little spell, a little wand-waving, and I could turn this dratted cereal into a chocolate bar.' Seth pokes his breakfast with a fork. Pushes it away with a glare.

'But in potions, you could make the cereal taste like chocolate.' Percy adds helpfully. 

'But it'll still look like cereal, won't it? If the eyes aren't satisfied then the tongue won't be. Besides, I like my food to taste like what it looks like. Otherwise the natural order of thing's get messed up and it all goes downhill from there.'

Percy's clearly taken aback. I can tell because he opens and closes his mouth a few times in rapid succession. 

'The natural order,' he says; hesitates and then continues, 'what do you mean by that?'

A pause. Seth's turn to look uncomfortable. His light blue eyes rake over everyone in the hall. Looking for inspiration? He opens his mouth to say something, but then thinks better of it and shrugs instead. 

'The balance of good and evil,' he starts, now with more confidence, 'things should be what they are. When they are what they're not meant to be, it messes the system up. Such as cereal tasting like chocolate. If the cereal wanted to taste like chocolate, it should have the decency to look like it as well.' 

Is there anyone out there as confused as I am? Cos I have no idea what Seth was talking about. Nobody else does either. Percy looks stuck for words so he stares down at his porridge and twirls his spoon about. The eavesdroppers hastily look away. To think that this brain-buster came from an argument about potions.

Ouch! A punch on the shoulder. Look behind me and I see Matthew.

'Oliver. I noticed you weren't at the start of breakfast today.' He says. Really? How observant of you.

'Yeah. So?' A chuckle. Merlin, why do annoying people have to turn up when I least expect them? Why do they have to turn up at all? Puts me off my food.

'There was an announcement you would've liked to have heard.' 

Silence. Well? What are you waiting for? Suspense? Come on, can't be that bad. Go ahead and tell me already.

'Quidditch trials are on next week,' He finally says. Really? Cool. I'm definitely coming to watch. Seeing as I can't get on a broom myself, least I can do is watch other people. Want to see what the team's like. See how good a captain Matthew is. 

'Next week when?' Matthew does a big exaggerated shrug. 

'Don't know really. It's not up to us to decide. Madam Hooch does. If it rains, then we have it at night.' A pause, he takes a big breath and continues, 'speaking of Madam Hooch, when do you Gryffindors have your first flying lesson?'

'This afternoon. Do you really have Quidditch trials in the middle of the night?'

Matthew nods. 'It's good for the atmosphere. Makes Quidditch seem almost romantic. Flying by moonlight, nothing better. Girls come to watch. Then afterwards…' he lets the sentence trail off and winks. Grins maniacally. I don't get it.

'But isn't it hard to see the players with no lights?' Immediately his face becomes somber.

'You'll learn later on…' Slap on the shoulder, 'the beauty of having trials by moonlight.'

Suddenly he leans over my shoulder. Sneaks a peek at my timetable.

'You have potions first?' A serious look on his face as he shakes his head, 'poor, poor shmucks…'

And then he walks away, laughing silently. I don't see how having potion's first is so funny. Not like he can avoid it all together. He is better off than us in one area, though. He's already done 5 years of it, and has only got 2 years left. Lucky bugger. 

A tapping on my shoulder. What now? Can't a guy eat in peace?

'Lessons start. We better pack.' Percy's voice. Look up, and people are starting to get up and leave. Seth's disappeared already. Oh, right. Grab my toast and take a swig of pumpkin juice. That'll do for now. 

***

'Has anyone seen my quill case?' A shrill voice.

'Don't think so. What colour is it?'

'Grey. It should be somewhere here.'

'This might be it…' a hand extends towards a grey lump on a bed, but then it jerks back quickly. 'Percy! What is your rat doing on my bed? Get it off!' 

An annoyed voice. 'Really! It's just a rat!' Stamping. Then squeaking as said rat is whisked away. 

Welcome to the first morning in Gryffindor tower.

'I think this is it.' Seth's crisp, no-nonsense voice filters through the air. His hand reaches down, and neatly plucks a grey quill case from the floor. Dusts it off and hands it back to Ben. 

'Oh! Thanks a bunch!' Ben's delighted. I can tell because his dimples are showing. 

Heaving my potions textbook into my bag. Oof! It weighs a tonne. I'll never be able to carry it down to the dungeons. Looking around. Have I forgotten anything? Quills? Check. Ink-pot? Check. Parchment? Check. Didn't know how much I'd need, so I packed the whole box. Better safe than screwed. That's about it, I think. 

'Aren't you taking your herbology books as well? We'll need them after lunch.' Percy asks. 

'Nah, I'll just fetch it later. Don't think it'll fit, anyway.' Percy takes a look at my bag.

'Oh I see. You've still got the hard-cover edition.' Glances at his own copy, 'yours is also a lot bigger.' 

Yeah. Bully for me. My parents were too stingy to get me my own copy, so they gave me my older brother's. Never mind the fact that it's twice as big as everyone else's.

__

Ring-ring-ring. The Hogwart's bell? I didn't know they had one.

'We better go,' Percy says, 'I know my way to the dungeons, so you can all follow me.'

That's good. Cos I sure don't.

*** 

'You open it'

'No, you open it.'

'Why?'

'Why not?'

Merlin's beard! Anyone would think we were a bunch of Hufflepuffs, for crying out loud! 

'Come on guys, it's only Snape.' They don't look convinced. A silence, then Ben whispers, 'why don't _you _open it?' 

'_Me?!_' A pause. 'Fine then. I will!' Pushing through to the front. Slowly turning the doorknob, thank Merlin it doesn't make a noise. Carefully now, give the door a little push, and it opens. 

Dead silence. No one's in the room. 

'Let us see!' Someone from the back. One of the girls, I think. The line surges forward as we enter.

'No one's here,' Seth remarks, 'sure this is the right room?' A nod from Percy. Nothing to do but sit and wait, I suppose. 

Taking our seats, as the Slytherins file in. They throw us a couple of dark looks, but no one actually has the nerve to speak. It must be the vibes from the room. The smoothness of the cold dungeon walls, the quiet flicker of the torches, all command silence. No one dares to disturb it. 

As far as I can see, everyone's already here. 20 heads I see, 10 Gryffindors and 10 Slytherins. Not mixing of course. That would be too much. 

A loud bang. Everyone looks up, as Snape walks into the dungeon. Slams his books onto the table. Everyone winces and inches back a bit.

He stomps behind his desk. Mutters a few words under his breath, as a chair comes whizzing into the room. It settles behind Snape, and he sits down. 

A collective whoosh, as everyone dares to breathe again.

'I see,' he says, ' we have the Slytherin/Gryffindor first-year class. Correct?' 

A pause as Snape surveys the room with a look of loathing. Each student seems to shrink a bit under his gaze. 

'Albert.' A pause. Then a 'present' issues from someone in the back row. A Slytherin, no doubt. Satisfied, Snape continues.

'Blanchus?' 'Here.' 'Dalton?' 'Yes.' All the way down to, 'Wood?' 'Here.' 'Weasley?' 'present'

Another long stare at us. Then, Snape reaches into a drawer, and lifts out a stack of parchment. Turns to sneer at us.

'These,' one pale, bony hand on the stack, 'are your test papers.' _What!? _Ignoring the gasps from around the room, he continues, 'as I do not wish to have a repeat of last year, where one stupid student misinterpreted the instructions and added a porcupine quill before taking the cauldron off the fire, and thus rendered the classroom useless for a week, I wish to gain an accurate idea of your…_talents _before letting you work with potent ingredients.' A glare around the room. Almost a whisper, 'I do not want a repeat of last year. Are we clear?' 

Nobody answers. Then a voice from in front, 'We're perfectly clear. Sir' 

Snape looks shocked that someone dares to answer back. 

'1 point from Gryffindor for answering back to a teacher.' He says silkily. Seth looks outraged. He opens his mouth again, but the only thing that comes out is 'Ouch!' 

I think Ben must have kicked him. Good thing too, otherwise who knows how many points we would have lost? 

A piece of parchment is shoved under my nose. Can't even see what it says, the writing's so tiny. 'First-years-Potions Test 1-Page 1.' Page 1? You mean there's more?

Another piece flutters onto the desk. Same size print. Just as unreadable as the first. Wonder if I can borrow Percy's glasses?

'Quiet!' Snape barks. Apparently the murmurs of outrage have gotten too loud. He's sitting down at his desk, an evil leer on his face. A watch in one hand and another stack of parchment in the other. 

'You have 30 minutes to complete this exam, textbooks may be used,' a sigh of relief goes round the room, '-but I sincerely doubt they would help much.'

__

Thump. Glares from around the room. What? I can't help the fact that my textbook makes a noise every time I open it. Now, what's the first question? 

__

List, in point form, all the uses of Monkshood. Monkshood? What's that? Something that monks wear on their heads? Somehow I don't think that's the answer. 

Another thump as I turn to the index. More glares. Oh go boil your brains. Monkshood, monkshood…ah, here it is! Page 218.

Scratching down the answer. There. One question done, 39 more to go.

***

'That test wasn't very challenging.' Percy declares, as soon as we're out the door, 'It was mainly more of a 'see who can copy from the textbook fastest.' 

'Suits me.' Ben shrugs; adds, 'maybe he likes people who can work fast.' 

'90% of potion making is just waiting.' 

'Really? I always knew it was a waste of time.' 

And so the argument continues. Funny thing is, the only person who hasn't said anything so far is Seth. He's walking in front, head bent low and staring at the ground. Walking faster to catch up to him. 

'A dull lesson eh?' He blinks, then smiles.

'Dull doesn't cut it. Needs a stronger word. But I don't think we should complain. Herbology's next, and from what I've heard, it's not exactly 'thrills 'n' spills' either.' 

'You hear a lot about the classes, don't you?'

'Yes. Mainly since all my relatives come through here. They tell me lots of stories. Some of them are quite crude.' 

'Must be fun. My relatives come here as well but they don't tell me anything.' 

'Yeah well, some stuff is better unheard.' 

'Like what?'

'Didn't I just say it was better unheard?' And that seems to be the end of the conversation. Seth walks faster, leaving me behind. Somebody has secrets…and I want to know what they are. If only my stupid brother would tell me. But no, all he ever said was how good the Gryffindor team was when he was here. Won every year, he said. Couldn't tell me anything juicy. Sod.

***

-La fin-

A/N: A shame to leave it there, but I encountered a major attack of writer's block in the middle of potions, so I quickly finished it off. If I left it until the writer's block wore off, I doubt you'll see this chapter till August.

Anyway, as usual, comment's, question's are appreciated. 


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